Pimping Out Atlanta

Okay, so where am I?

I’m out on vacation from my 60 hour a week marketing gig working my other media job that I can only do when I’m on vacation. Good thing my 60 hour a week career has a liberal time-off policy akin to the countries of France and Brazil. Ah, the things I do to make commercials and extra scratch for the folks in Japan!

So, I’m at Atlanta and I made the mistake of letting my office handle the arrangements and I wound up in the bad part of Atlanta…called Atlanta. Take a look in the header of this blog and picture this friendly, All-American face wondering in Atlanta and gasp, “Ohhhhhhhhhhh Noooooooooooo!”

Not great, Bob!

I don’t know if you’ve ever been driving around a sketchy neighborhood and you do what I do and tell yourself, “It’s me.” Yep, it’s me judging the neighborhood inappropriately.

I do it a lot and I cannot lie.

My inner dialogue went something like this:

“Stop it…it’s fine…it’s different and I like it…thank you! What a vibrant community to let my rental Mercedes idle at these loooooooooooooooooong, long lights. Nope! No danger here….24 hour check cashing places? What a wonderful service. Yes, those should be on every corner!…Oh ‘Cash for Gold’ you say? Yes! Thank you very much, let me scribble a note down just in case.”

I knew it was a bad area because I saw a pimp strolling around. How do I know it was a pimp? Close your eyes and picture a pimp. Yep, that’s him. Do not, I repeat, do not alter your first draft of mental pimp in the least. A man in a Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat suit, a furry fedora, a glass cane, platform shoes, and a pinky ring.

Indeed, I saw a pimp.

Listen, I’m not babe in the woods but seeing a pimp outside of the movies (*) in 2018 where all such activities are reserved for the world wide web is a clear indicator that I was in the wrong part of town.

A mile away I arrived at my hotel and, I don’t know if you’re still playing the picture game, but it wasn’t looking like a Four Seasons. It was more like an abandoned building here someone spray painted the word “Hotel” on the side of it. So there I am checking in behind 20 inches of bulletproof Plexiglas and imagining what a delightful stay this is going to be while asking what the Wi-Fi password is but not being able to hear though the muffled sound of an apathetic front desk clerk.

It was then when it hit me. It doesn’t have anything to do with me or or my perception of the area. This is just a messed up area and I need to get the hell out of here. So there I am in the middle of the transaction, wallet in one hand, roller bag in the other, I was like: “Never mind all of this!” as I kept rolling back out hoping my Mercedes wasn’t on blocks at this point.

I roll out to the parking lot and this whole thing is playing out like a Jeff Foxworthy standup routine and jump into the my car with my bag on my lap pretending to be Snake Plissken,  but really more like George Costanza facing a fire.  All I knew is I need to get somewhere more bougie.

With my handle trembling towards my GPS system I proceeded to search for the most bougie place I could think of in Atlanta: Barnes and Noble. (**)

(**) I feel many of you reading this are wondering if you can laugh at this one, while others are you are quietly filing this away mentally to use at a later time when you find yourself in the wrong part of town. Other businesses that will work for this get out of sketchy scenario include: Panera and the Apple Store. 

Whatever you think of this strategy, just know that in 22 minutes I had a scone and an espresso while getting a foot massage at The Ritz-Carlton Buckhead. (***)

(***) – AD OF THE WEEK/MONTH/WHATEVER
Glico
Agency: Me, The Media Guy, Michael Lloyd

Here’s the work that came from the Atlanta meetings and that scone: